The Descent
by Archemios
Summary: Something I cobbled together awhile ago. Enjoy. Follows a Tempestus Scion


What is a name to a soldier of the Imperium? Trillions of men and women, spread across billions of worlds, bearing names they would like to think are solely their own, unique to them as individuals. Each thinks their name will leave some sort of mark, and many leave their names written in blood, a sacrifice to the greater good of humanity and the God-Emperor. What is a name, really, to a soldier of the Imperium? Especially to one of the Militarum Tempestus Scions?

Sepris Magnum was a name, once. The third of so-named nobles from the doomed mining world of Lauros. A twice-removed lineage of the planetary governer's family, privileged and elite. Sepris himself could remember little of his time on the world, and what memories there were, were fuzzy at best. All he could remember was gross betrayal, horrifying civil war, and emotions of disgust and fury at the very thought of his homeworld and the tratiors that had seen it burn.

His clearest memories were of his ten years in the Schola Progenium. The earlier years had been hard, the hardest he'd known until the Trials and his first drop. He'd seen familiar faces from his half-remembered childhood on Lauros. He'd seen them killed by the Officio Prefectus as punishment. He'd been set loose on a few of them as part of his training and once had to strangle the life out of a man he had called brother. Over time, through whispers in his sleep and psychoactive drugs pumped into his food, he grew cold to the killing of old friends. Everyone died, and it was better to die in service to the Emperor than shrink before the dirty work tasked upon him and his comrades.

The Trials had been gruelling. Lasting over a year, the Schola Progenium had put each of them through rigorous tests that ranged from weeks of survival, alone and with minimal supplies on the death world class moon orbiting their planet, to sneaking through the Schola's minefield while avoiding the roving death squads, with little more than a combat knife. Sepris Magnum had gotten through it all, of course, as had thousands of others. Now they formed the 68th Iotan Warbirds and spread themselves across the Eastern Fringe in aide of thousands of Imperial units.

This drop was no different than any other drop in the Eastern Fringe. A world, just as dangerous as any other, crawling with Tau and their human sympathizers. Already, Sepris was rocked around in his grav-harness as anti-air fire shook the descending valkyrie assault carrier. Around him were eight other Scions, all noble-born orphans from his homeworld, all just as thoroughly trained. Then there was the Tempestor, the leader of the squad. He wore the respmask and goggles of the Scions, but preferred to wear his beret rather than the omnishield helmet. There was no need for any of them to wear respmasks, of course - the planet's atmosphere was breathable, if polluted - but each of the Scions knew that there was a certain intimidation their helmets provided that would deter most of the traitor humans. Maybe even some of the xenos, as well.

The dimly lit interior of the valkyrie turned violent red as the grav-harnesses released the occupants. Sepris stood up in step with his fellow Scions. The ramp opened in the rear of the valkyrie, as well as the two side doors. At the command of their Tempestor, the Scions ran toward the exits and slid down cables to the ground twenty metres below. Lasfire, solid slugs and pulse weapon fire filled the air. A las-bolt glanced off of Sepris' shoulder guard, and he turned his hot shot lascarbine to bear on the lasgunner that had shot at him. While sliding down the cable, he opened up with his lascarbine and felt a surge of endorphins as he watched the traitor's head burst into flame.

Touching down on the ground, Sepris released the catch of his jumpkit from the cable and immediately ran toward his squad's pre-arranged rendezvous point. Firing as he ran, searing bolts of superheated light pierced what little armor the traitors wore. They dropped with burning holes through their hearts and brains. The smell of searing meat wafted through Sepris' respmask, but he hardly noticed over the combat high. A Tau fired a pulse carbine from the hip and Sepris rolled behind a crude barricade of debris. Hefting a frak grenade from his hip, he set the timer and threw it over the Tau's position. Just as he had intended, it burst in the air and a rain of shrapnel ripped the Tau and several humans near it into bloody chunks.

Overhead the valkyries fired rocket salvoes and strafing lasfire. Around him, Sepris saw humans cower in their hovels, grimy weapons held in feeble hands. He held no pity for them, but only shot when absolutely necessary. No point wasting ammunition on insubstantial targets of oppurtunity. The Warbirds were there for a purpose, and it was not to help the grunts of the Astra Militarum in a simple battle.

A grenade landed in front of Sepris. Without breaking stride, he picked it up and tossed it through the window of a former store where people were taking cover. He kept running, even after hearing the screams cut short by the wet _crump_ of the grenade detonating. Up ahead was the redndezvous point, and the other members of his squad were there. Even the worst off of them had barely a scar marring his carapace plate.

"Squad Lenis is moving in to surround the target." the Tempestor said. They had run for nearly two kilometres, but not a single sign of weariness showed in the man's voice, or any of their breathing and heartrates. "We're the speartip for this mission."

"Time to sever the head." a female Scion nodded and several other Scions gave affirmatives.

"Move out." the Tempestor ordered.

As one, the squad spread out into a loose formation, lascarbines to shoulders and prepared for the deadliest of fighting. The female Scion hefted a volley gun at her hip, ready to unleash a precise spray of deadly energy at any enemy that might present themselves. In the background, hidden behind the cover of dust and debris, they could make out the shapes of Imperial Guardsmen fighting street to street, or the hulking forms of knight battle walkers making their way through the fray. Overhead, one of the valkyries plummeted to the earth, engines shrieking in protest as fire blew out the cockpit.

A squad of Tau fire warriors turned a corner in front of them, and Sepris wasted no time in firing superheated energy through what appeared to be their squad leader. Several other beams lanced him as well and he was thrown back before the Tau could react. The firefight was over in seconds, the aliens taken by surprise and ended quickly. Moving on, the Scions ignored the families of rebels hiding under debris or in broken habs. None of them presented an immediate threat and dealing with them would only impede their progress. The Imperial Guard could deal with the traitor infantry well enough.

"For the Greater Good!" a rebel yelled out, charging from the ruins of a manufactory with a corroded autorifle as his only weapon. One of the Scions took his leg off at the knee before lancing him through the heart with a second shot.

"Sloppy." Sepris commented. The man could have been taken in one shot; anything more than that needed improvement.

"Keep moving." the Tempestor ordered.

They made their way through the streets, cutting down any rebels or xenos foolish enough to get in their way. The Tempestor's chainsword carved a bloody rend through a cluster of rebels who had been unfortunate enough to turn a corner onto the Scions. Sepris let his lascarbine fall across his chest on its sling, taking a stunned rebel's head in his hands and twisting his head around sharply. The neck gave way with a sharp crack and Sepris let the body fall away, limply. With hardly a pause, the Scions continued on their path.

Finally, they came to a temple. It was once a temple of the Imperial Cult, dedicated to the God-Emperor of Mankind. For all the destruction around, the temple was hardly touched - just as grand a cathedral as ever, but with damnable xenos banners fluttering from its flagpoles. One of the Scions growled in disgust, but they pressed on and into the temple.

Rebels in pews were startled out of their prayers. Several reached for weapons and were gunned down before they could reach them. The others started to flee or tried to hide, and all died from the ruthless efficiency of the Scions. Sepris set his crosshairs on a child who had pulled an autopistol from his baggy coat. Without really thinking, he pulled the trigger and the child fell in flames the cathedral floor. Sepris fired several more times into the fleeing backs of rebels as he moved on.

"Please, mercy!" a teenaged girl begged, on her knees before the Scions. The Tempestor fired a bolt round through her skull, pulverising it into gore without breaking his stride.

At the altar of the cathedral stood a man in the uniform of an Imperial general of the Astra Militarum, dirtied from weeks of guerilla warfare. Around him were squads of traitor guardsmen and Tau fire warriors. The Scions threw themselves behind stone columns and wooden pews as the enemy opened fire. Sepris tossed a grenade into their ranks, driving them apart from one another. The female Scion opened up with her volley gun, ripping several traitor guardsmen apart. The other Scions closed in, picking of Tau as if they were the fleeing rebels.

The Tempestor cleaved his chainsword through the last Tau and the other Scions finished off the last of the guardsmen. The general stood firm, though visibly shaken by the sudden and violent end of his revolution. Silence filled the cathedral, and all that breathed within the altar room were the Scions and the general. Around the temple, the other Scions were storming the cathedral and killing the other guards and rebels. The general swallowed.

"The Greater Good will prevail!" he managed to get out before the Tempestor's bolt pistol slammed a mass-reactive shell into his heart. His chest detonated in a blossom of gore that spattered the altar of the God-Emperor.

"The Emperor's will be done." the Tempestor said over the vox.

"Sir, look out!" the female Scion shifted position and began firing her volley gun into the arched roof of the altar room. A searing white light burst from above and pierced her breastplate.

As one, the rest of the Scions fired their weapons towards where the shot had originated and a flaming carcass fell from the rafters. Sepris caught the fallen Scion in his arms and lowered her to the ground. He removed her respmask and goggles. Her face was hard edged, but could have been beautiful once. Brown eyes, alight with the zeal of all Progenium graduates began to dim. The edges in her face softened. Sepris knew her name, of course, as he knew the names of all his comrades.

"The Emperor illumine you, Mavis Magnum." Sepris said, giving a short prayer before leaving her corpse on where it lay.

"Mission accomplished." the Tempestor reported over the vox-network through their unit's vox-caster, "One Scion downed."

"Acceptable work, Tempestor Sorek." came the gruff voice of the Tempestor Prime, "Retrieve what you can from the fallen and pull your men back for extraction. Over and out."

Sepris stripped the carapace armor from the woman's corpse. He couldn't help looking at her face. Memories stirred of a similar face, much younger and innocent from his childhood. His emotions stirred at the memories and he grit his teeth. He closed her brown eyes for her and the emotions subsided. With grim efficiency, he and his fellow Scions divided the armor and equipment between them and exited the cathedral.

Tempestus Scion Sepris Magnum never looked back.


End file.
